I’ve mentioned before that I went to a middle school that was extremely cliquish, with set groups which didn’t interact much with each other or anyone new. It made it very hard for a new person to make friends unless someone in one of the groups noticed them and brought them in.

But sometimes I hear people who feel a little on the outside of things accuse other people of being cliquish, and that’s not always the case. It’s especially sad when people feel that way in church. I imagine, human nature being what it is, it’s possible there are some churches which do have cliques, and that’s abominable. But sometimes it’s just a matter of certain groups of people who know each other better just because they do things together. Unfortunately, when people do feel they’re in the outer fringes of a group, they tend to pull away more, making them even less a part of the group, making them feel even more like an outsider, and so the cycle goes.

But you can’t get closer to people that you don’t spend any time with. And you won’t feel part of the group if you rarely interact with the group.

Some years back our church had a little fellowship time between Sunday School and church with coffee and sometimes doughnuts or muffins. It was a chance to talk with people and to get up and mill around in between an hour or so of Sunday School and another hour or more of church time. Most people got up to move around a bit and stood and talked in smaller groups near where the coffee was served. There were also soft drink machines on that side of the room for those who preferred that to coffee. There was one couple — a middle-aged couple who had attended the church for years, so they weren’t new — who pretty much always sat off to themselves on the other side of the room. I don’t think anyone thought anything of it — if I had I probably would have thought they didn’t want anything to eat or drink or preferred to sit rather than stand or walk around. But some months later I heard they “didn’t feel a part of things.” I was astounded. I probably thought something like, “And whose fault is that?” To literally place oneself away from everyone else and not interact and then not feel a part of things! People did sit at their table during the Sunday School hour, so it’s not like no one ever interacted with them.

It is true that we tend to gravitate toward people we already know. Our church has regular fellowships during the summer after Wed. night services. When we go through the line to get our refreshments and then turn and look for a place to sit, it’s natural to look for friends to catch up with, especially since we pretty much see most of them only at church. And we should, at least some times, seek out new people or people we don’t know as well.

When my husband and I first came to our present church and would go to these fellowships, we somehow often ended up as one of the first people going through the line and finding an empty table. But then no one came to sit with us for a few weeks in a row. We could have sat there feeling sorry for ourselves, but instead, we began to hang back so we weren’t first in line, and then, as we looked for a place to sit, we’d find a table where a few people were seated and asked if we could join them. Introductions and small talk ensued and eventually spun off into relationships. Should someone have sought us out as the new people? Probably. But it would have made it worse if we hadn’t taken some initiative. It took me a good year to really feel a part of things there, but it wasn’t because people were exclusive and unwilling to be friendly. Some of those people had known each other for thirty years, and it just took time as a new person to develop relationships: I couldn’t expect to have the same intimacy within a few weeks as those who had known each other longer.

I would advise anyone who “doesn’t feel a part of things” to:

1. Go where the people are.

2. Don’t hold yourself aloof. Interact, even if you feel awkward at first.

3. Go to some functions that you might not be interested in for the fellowship if not the activity.

4. Talk to people! Don’t wait for them to come to you!

The Bible says that “A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly” (Proverbs 18:24). Aloof people don’t have many friends. You may feel that you’re not aloof, you’re just shy, but it can come across the same way.

Reaching out to others is harder if you’re naturally shy and quiet. I was one of the shyest, most self-conscious people on the planet: I would almost panic if I was in a group and someone asked me a question, trying to draw me into the conversation. That is still my default mode: even now it is hard for me to raise my hand to answer a question in a Sunday School class or share a prayer request in prayer meeting. But I can testify that the Lord can give grace to overcome that natural tendency.

One thought that has helped me a lot over the years was shared by a former pastor’s wife during an officer’s meeting for a ladies’ group. She was encouraging the various officers to speak up as they gave their reports, because it did no one any good if they couldn’t hear what was said, and then she remarked, “Self-consciousness is consciousness of self, and we’re supposed to forget self.”

The more I am thinking about myself — the thought of people looking at me, wondering how they will receive me — the more I am likely to retreat into my own shell. But if I try to forget myself and focus on the other person, everything goes much better.

Every encounter or attempt to make conversation won’t be successful, but don’t let that deter you. “People skills” can be developed. But you have to exercise them to develop them.